In recent years the seaside village of Rock in north Cornwall has become known
for its astounding property prices. Last year, one nondescript,
seven-bedroom home — admittedly with great views — sold for more than £5m. A
new-build recently achieved, at £2.5m, £1,200 per square foot, a price on a
par with Fulham, south London.
Another £5m house is due on the market at Easter, but the agents rumoured to
be handling the sale won’t talk. “We don’t want to be bombarded,” they say.
The phenomenon of Rock is something of an estate agents’ fantasy, where prices
keep rising by 25% a year. It may also be the only property market in the
country that has been driven by teenagers, the public school variety who
surf all day and check out each other’s social credentials on the beach at
night.
First-time visitors to Rock are always amazed: the place looks so ordinary.
The long, straight road into town is bordered on both sides by
modest-looking bungalows; there is a petrol station, and a few shops, and
that’s it.
In summer, you can’t park for Mer-cedes estates. The occasional whir of a
helicopter announces the arrival of yet another jet-set holiday-maker: a
boy-band singer, perhaps, or an investment banker joining his family for a
few days.
Turn into any of the lanes nearer the beach and you will get an inkling of
what all the fuss is about: breathtaking views across the mile-wide Camel
estuary, bordered by broad white sands edged with wild dunes. But even that
does not quite explain the hysteria that this tiny village excites.
A fourbed waterside terraced house that would have cost £15,000 30 years ago
would have sold for £200,000 a decade ago — and £2m last year. To understand
these wild price hikes, you have to go back to the mid-20th century.
“Transport is the key to it all,” says John Varcoe, the managing director of
John Bray & Partners, the main estate agency in Rock. “When families
started to come down to Cornwall for their holidays, in the 1950s and 1960s,
this side of the Camel estuary was difficult to get to unless you had a car,
so you only got more affluent homeowners here.” Before long, it was the
summer meeting place for a select group of the well-to-do. “Most people knew
each other and came down as a tribe. Some houses are owned by the third
generation of the same family. Most are second homes.”
Of the 300 or so properties in Rock, an estimated 65% are second or holiday
homes. When Rob Mably, Rock’s postmaster and owner of Trebetherick Stores,
applied for planning permission to build four large houses and six
affordable homes in nearby Daymer, of the 100 or so letters received by the
council in response, 75 were letters of objection from out of the county.
For all that, it remains an unassuming, nonbling sort of place. Everybody
eagerly points out that they are just normal middle-class people; some
undoubtedly are, but most are pretty top-end. Many of the old guard are
household names: Bromley (as in Russell &), Blackwell (bookshop), Freud,
Sainsbury and Cadbury, but plenty of the others are as recognisable:
Enfield, Gower, Grant, Grade, Mansell, Paxman, Oliver and al-Fayed.
Those you haven’t heard of invent offshore tax schemes or trade in carbon
credits. Eight clients of John Bray are in the top 100 of The Sunday Times
Rich List. What they tend to have in common with the rest of the “middle
classes” is children. Networking teenagers have played as big a part as
anything in Rock’s boom — they wanted to go where their friends were going,
and “pester power” has been a potent market force.
“You get cliques, depending on what school the children go to,” says Varcoe.
“We get mothers ringing up for accommodation, saying they need a house for
such and such a date, because their children’s school friends are there
then. It is all about the social scene. If you cannot afford to buy in Rock,
you rent.”
Until a few years ago, the Rose family was typical of the Rock holiday-maker.
Alan was a derivatives trader and Tessa looked after their two boys, Oliver,
now 8, and Finlay, 6, at home in Henley-on-Thames, Oxfordshire. For four
years they rented a house each summer.
“It cost a fortune, had great views, but, like many of these houses, it was
held in trust by a family who had owned it for years and was pretty grotty,”
says Tessa. “It was fun, but it wasn’t a great holiday for me, and we spent
another small fortune on restaurants.”
In 2003, the couple, both 43, bought their own “holiday home”: 164-acre
Mesmear Farm, slightly inland, with a run-down, fourbed house and four stone
barns. It cost £1.2m and Tessa spent a year renovating the house. When it
was done, Alan said he was quitting his job. “I was taken aback but I’m
always game for a change,” says Tessa. “We had got into a rat-race of plush
restaurants and expensive children’s parties. We wanted a more Famous Five
life for the boys.”
They spent £1m installing a heated pool and converting two of the barns into
the sort of chic places they would want to stay in. Now, for £6,000 a week,
they offer an upmarket holiday chalet experience: fourbed luxury, complete
with chef, boats, and a 4x4 taxi service.
They are already booked for this year’s peak weeks. “So far, they are all
bankers,” says Tessa. “The new money wants to go where the old money is, but
they don’t want the same things. They want swanky hotels, not damp houses.”
Nina Brooke, 16, whose father, Martin Brooke (of Brooke Bond tea) has been
holidaying in Rock for 50 years, loves it. “Everybody’s your age, it’s free
and easy, and you know them all,” she says. “It can get crowded, and the
whole teen competition scene on the beach can be overwhelming, but there’s
always loads of my friends here. It’s like school without teachers.”
The cachet of Rock is so great that other once scruffy fishing villages and
moorland hamlets are undergoing a makeover, as out-of-towners snap up
cottages to enjoy a summer life of sand, surf and seafood. Even better, it
is still possible to get a sandy foothold in them: prices are rising but are
nowhere near the level they are in Rock.
Unsurprisingly, local reaction to the boom is mixed. Many local people are
delighted to see the value of their homes rising — they can sell up, move
inland, and flee the crowds — and full-time residents of Rock and Polzeath
are fairly tolerant. “These kids are going to pay an awful lot of taxes when
they are older,” says one. “If they are expensive on police now, they are
going to pay it back in years to come.”
However, in places such as Port Isaac and to a lesser extent, Fowey, home to
generations of fishermen, villagers are angry that their children are being
priced out of the market.
“There’s a lot of arrogance,” says one former Rock resident, who wishes to
remain anonymous. “You see it in the way they drive, park and behave in
restaurants. You see the same behaviour in Fulham, and those people come
here because it’s ‘the right place to be’.”
If you do want to be beside the Cornish seaside, but Rock’s not the spot for
you, here’s our hot list:
Port Isaac: A traditional fishing village with lots of charm,
interesting shops, cafes and pubs. It’s popular with tourists and the ITV1
series Doc Martin, starring Martin Clunes, is filmed here. Parking, though,
is a nightmare. Laurence Llewe-lyn-Bowen has a holiday home here, and
Richard and Judy own one nearby. Clunes has been spotted househunting.
Cottages start at £200,000 (£250,000-£300,000 for a place with sea views) in
the old higgledy-piggledy harbour area, but a one-bed conversion in the less
picturesque top part of town is for sale for £137,500, with John Bray estate
agency.
Polzeath: This is the thumping heart of cool Cornwall, with the only
Blue Flag on this stretch of seaside. Its beach, Daymer Bay, heaves with
surf dudes and posh teens all summer. Carter’s and the Oystercatcher are the
chic hang-outs. Two miles from Rock, and once the favourite place of John
Betjeman (he is buried at St Enodoc), July’s night parties can be rowdy;
last year dispersal orders were introduced. It’s as easy to get a cappuccino
and a bagel as an ice-cream and pasty. James Bourne, formerly of boy band
Busted, has a house here. Prices have begun to rise, and a prime site will
fetch more than £1m. The place’s appeal is not architectural, as there are
few cottages; small bungalows start at £300,000; for sea views, expect to
pay about £400,000.
St Tudy: Being inland means no sea but also no tourists. St Tudy is a
little rural gem, close to Bodmin. It is a short drive to the surfing
beaches and 10 minutes from the moors. The bustling village appeals to all
ages, and has a good pub, a post office, mobile bank and library. Prices for
a family-sized cottage start at £325,000; large period houses with land,
such as the one Eddie George, former governor of the Bank of England owns,
start at £1m.
Fowey: Pronounced Foy, this charming spot is popular with yachties, who
love its deep-water moorings, and landlubbers who love Pinky Murphy’s
teashop and the Toll Bar restaurant. On the south coast, off the A30, the
port town is less accessible from London, but demand is still high. Prices
rose 10% in 2006, says Fowey River, a local estate agency. It estimates 60%
of sales are to second homeowners. You’ll pay £200,000 and up for a small
cottage in the older part; sea views start at £350,000. Gloria Hunniford
owns a cottage; Dawn French and Lenny Henry have just bought a large
clifftop house.
Fowey River, 01726 833 000, www.foweyriver.co.uk;
Mesmear, 01208 869 731, www.mesmear.co.uk
